it's a shame
by mozzafiato
Summary: 'it took everything in Lucas to resist crashing straight through that window at the sound of Maya's soft whimper' / or: Lucas witnesses Maya being treated poorly, and needs to do something about it. (TW:ABUSE [non-sexual]) Oneshot at the moment, will be a twoshot eventually. -ON HIATUS-


**this is so shitty and awful and cliche idk I'm sorry- disclaimer: I don't own Girl Meets World**

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It was nearing midnight when a text message snapped Maya from her daze.

 _'I'm coming up'_

She instantly dropped the pencil she held in her right hand in favor of jotting out a quick response, hoping it would reach the person in time.

 _'nows really not the best time'_

A moment passed, and she used the time to readjust the bag of frozen peas she was gingerly holding against her forearm with her left hand.

 _'...Oops?'_

With a sigh, she dropped her sketch pad on the floor and shoved the peas under her bed, wincing as she swiftly grabbed a hoodie from her bedpost and pulled it over her head just as she heard a knock at her window. She flinched at the loudness of the action, despite it being hardly more than a soft tap, and hoped no one heard the sound. Still turned away, she swiped the sleeves under her eyes in an attempt to wipe away any smudged makeup, then turned and approached the window.

"Seriously?" she hissed under her breath upon opening it. "What, were you at the bottom of the fire escape? That's all the head's up I get?"

"Sorry," Lucas muttered as he attempted to gracefully climb through the opening. "Something happened, we need to talk-" He was cut off by Maya pressing a hand to his chest, preventing him from crawling through the window the rest of the way.

"No, you can't come in. I told you it's not a good time-"

"Maya, I come in almost every night. What's going on?" He dipped his head down to catch her eye, but she darted her gaze to the door before he could look too closely.

"I know, I'm sorry, but it's really not-"

Maya was interrupted once more by her own sharp intake of breath at a soft thump from somewhere beyond the door. She held her breath, neither of them speaking, until a creak sounded somewhere outside of the room, a bit closer than the previous noise. At this, she began pushing Lucas back out onto the fire escape, glancing hurriedly between him and the door.

"Maya, what the-"

"Just wait," she whispered. "Go around the corner. Don't look."

She rapidly eased the window shut as soon as he was out of the way, but the corner of his jacket caught between the frame and the sill at the last second. He started panicking as he heard footsteps ascending closer and closer, but was finally able to tug the pleather out just as he heard the door slam open. He quickly ducked around the brick corner, listening to the obnoxiously loud panting of a man through the small crack left behind as he tried to calm his own breathing.

"What the hell are you doing up here, girl?" a deep voice finally grunted.

"N-nothing, I was just sketching," Maya assured. Lucas had never heard her sound so small. It sounded like she was trying to take up as little space with her voice as possible, like she was trying to be invisible.

"How does drawing make noise, huh?" Three booming footsteps shuffled across the room, and it took everything in Lucas to resist crashing straight through that window at the sound of Maya's soft whimper. He slowly slid his face past the edge of the wall, so a sliver of his vision could catch what was going on in the room. From this angle, all he could see was the back of a burly man, towering over the blonde girl by such a margin that all he could see were her black knee-high socks, and nothing else.

The man tossed her to the side like a rag doll, and though she stumbled into her nightstand, Maya remained standing. She heaved in a deep breath before turning to face him again, clearly throwing all hope of being invisible out the window as she straightened her posture to appear unintimidated. The man smirked and moved toward her again, and she flinched just slightly but held her ground.

"You better learn your place, little girl," the man slurred as he wrapped a white-knuckled hand around her arm. She winced again and tear rolled down her cheek, but she ignored it and kept her stoney expression.

"My name is Maya." she spat.

The man's smirk dropped clean off of his face. He yanked her toward him by the arm he had in a vice grip, so that their faces were inches from each other. He swiftly moved his other hand to roughly clutch her face, which Maya immediately tried to pull out of, only to have his grip visibly tighten. He ignored her squirming and pulled her so close that she could feel his breath on her face.

Meanwhile, Lucas was debating between calling the authorities and rushing in there himself. He was leaning toward the latter, but if he were being honest, his 'strong as a horse' credit wasn't going to do him much good against this guy. He was easily twice his size, and clearly drunk enough for there to be a chance of him not feeling anything.

"You don't have a fucking name," the man finally hissed. "You don't matter enough to have a name, stupid whore."

And with that, he threw Maya to the floor and leaned over her as she quickly recovered enough to turn over and start to sit up.

"You best stay right the fuck there."

And she did. Maya instantly froze, still glaring daggers with tears in her eyes, but not daring to get up. The man smiled maliciously, and chuckled all the way out the door.

As soon as he was gone, Maya dropped the glare and swiped a hand across her eyes, before glancing at the window worriedly. Lucas sprung into action, immediately hoisting up the window as she swiftly moved across the room to quietly shut the door. She turned just as he climbed through the window, staring wordlessly as he righted himself, searching for the words to say. A quiet moment passed where they just looked at each other, but they broke the silence almost simultaneously.

"Lucas-"

"Give me one good reason not to call the cops right now."

She smiled sadly and took a step toward him, but he instantly backed away and she stopped.

"No, Maya, don't. I need a reason. Now."

She looked at the floor for a moment, thinking, then shoved her hair back with a sigh as she looked back up at him.

"Because they won't believe you."

Lucas didn't miss a step. "Why not? You don't think that's going to leave a bruise? Even if it doesn't, they'll believe y-"

"Because I'll lie to them, Huckleberry," she said calmly.

"Wha-" he breathed. "Why, Maya?"

"Because he'll be gone in a week, and it's not worth the CPS case. My mom will notice the bruises, and won't say a word about it, but he'll be gone. Like always."

Lucas ran a shaky hand over his face, barely processing what he was hearing. Like always? What did that even mean?

"No, Maya, you can't jus-"

"I don't want to be taken away, Cowboy. Can you just let it go? Please? I turn eighteen in a few months, it'll be okay-"

"Let it go?!" he hissed incredulously. "Are you insane? Do you _see_ yourself right now? Do you see _me_ right now?!"

Maya took a moment to examine the situation. He was probably right, she must be a mess. She knew her hair was all over the place, and she was also aware of the sticky mascara collecting in the bags under her eyes every time she blinked. Her face was probably in the process of bruising from the hand that had been previously clutching it, and she didn't even want to know what her arm looked like at this point.

Lucas, on the other hand, was visibly shaking; with rage or worry or what she didn't know, but his face had some sort of dangerous expression that she had never seen before. She had been expecting concern, sure, but he just seemed utterly angry. His expression was painted with less worry than it was with sheer rage. Lucas didn't give her a chance to respond.

"Maya, do you even- I can't- I-" He roughly ran a hand over his face again, then through his hair as he began pacing back and forth. He stopped short and huffed out a breath, spinning around to face her again with a hand still tangled in his hair in frustration. "Do you even realize how bad that was? Do you realize how hard that was for me to watch?"

"Wait, you watched?"

"Yes, Maya, I watched!"

She darted across the room and cupped a hand over his mouth with wide eyes. He gently wrapped his hand around her arm and removed her hand, causing her to wince slightly. His features finally softened, and he slowly pushed up the sleeve of her hoodie. Just under the crook of her elbow, there was old, yellow bruising clearly consistent with a large fingers, as well as red angry marks just above them from the incident that had just taken place. He fought the sick feeling in his stomach and dropped her arm, suddenly weak, and rubbed his hands over his eyes, like he was trying to force the image out of his head.

Finally, he dropped his hands from his face, looked at the ceiling, looked back down to her, and deadpanned, "Okay. We're leaving."

"What?!" she whisper-shouted, looking around the room nervously. "Huckleberry, I'm glad you care, but I can't just up and-"

"You really are a lunatic if you think I'm leaving you here after that. Come on. You don't have to pack anything, I just need both of us to not be here right now."

Maya considered fighting it, but she was helpless against the desperation in his eyes. She paused for a moment, then simply nodded. And after a few pillows were stuffed under the covers and the lights were turned off, out the window they went.

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 **there will be a chapter two at some point, but I don't know when tbh  
**


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